International Connections
by ncis.is.the.best
Summary: Post Aliyah. After the events in Israel, with tension mounting and tempers flaring, the team finds out the truth about Ziva in the worst possible way. In true Gibbs fashion, they make it their mission to save her... if it's not too late.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Tony and Ziva aren't together. Clearly I don't own NCIS.

So, new story. Partially my way of coping after that cliff-hanger, partially because i need something to do over the next six months. Okay, so I'm freaking, and this story is the product of that. Review and tell me if you want this continued. It's a slow start, but will get better once some stuff starts to happen. So, interested in more?

Thanks, and review!

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Director Leon Vance sat behind his desk, poring over the various files before him. He was behind on paperwork. Way behind. It was unlike him; usually he completed the tedious forms as soon as they hit his desk. He sighed and leant back in his chair, crossing his hands behind his head. Long day. Long _week_. It was part of his job as director to keep his agents safe, something he felt he had failed implicitly at. He knew this job wouldn't be easy, but he sure hadn't thought it would be this difficult.

If there was one thing that shocked him the most it was his Major Case Response Team. They were the best in their field, and yet, there were serious underlying issues. Of course, he had known this before everything that had happened, and now, he was one agent short, knee-deep in with foreign affairs, and seriously concerned about a senior field agent's state of mind. He pinched the bridge of his nose as his phone began to ring. After taking a moment to compose himself, he picked up the line.

"Director, there's a call for you on line two. The Director of Mossad." It was his assistant.

Leon Vance groaned inwardly. He considered Director Eli David to be friend, but his trust in the man was wavering. He did not feel up to another chat. Nevertheless, his Director side gave in. "Put him through."

"Yes sir."

There was a short pause, a click, and then David's voice. "Shalom, my friend."

Instead of returning the greeting in Hebrew as he usually did, Vance spoke in English. "Afternoon, Eli. To what do I owe this pleasure?" Today it was all formalities.

There was a heavy sigh. "I am afraid, Leon, that today I feel anything but pleasure."

Vance sat up straighter. "Ziva-"

"-has been compromised."

Vance paused, choosing his words carefully. "I was unaware she was involved in any operations."

"It is not your duty to know, Leon."

"And yet you are telling me this." Vance was already wondering how this would affect his already very screwed up Major Case Response Team. "Why?"

Another heavy sigh. "She worked with your agency for four years, Leon. You deserve to know."

"She's dead?"

"No." His voice was stiff. "Not yet."

"She was undercover?"

"Yes." There was a short pause. Minute, but enough to be of note. "She was finishing Officer Rivkin's job. It was an attempt to take down the training camp in Africa."

"You sent her in?" Incredulity.

"It was a mistake, Leon. Believe me, I am very aware. I rushed her; got impatient. Her cover was thin and flimsy. I should have realised; it was just a matter of time." The man's voice was full of unconcealed regret.

Vance thought for a moment. "How are you so sure she's been compromised? She may not have been able to establish contact. She may be fine."

"She would have found a way. Ziva is nothing if not thorough. She _would_ have found a way."

Vance rubbed a hand over his face, suddenly overcome by exhaustion and frustration. "What can I do?"

There was no hesitation on David's part. "Nothing. You must inform your team. That is all."

"I can't do that."

"I don't understand what you mean." He sounded genuinely confused.

"They'll go after her. I can't have that."

A chuckle; soft, sad. "They will be killed."

"That's why they can't know."

When David spoke again, he had managed to compose himself somewhat. "Tell them what you wish. It's your call."

"Okay, Eli. My sympathies are with you."

"Duly noted, Leon. Shalom."

This time, Leon Vance returned the greeting as usual, "Shalom."

Click. Dial tone.

What a mess.

Vance hung up his phone gingerly and stood, stretching. His mind was scanning through possibilities of how he could handle this. He made his way out of his office and crossed to the centre of the NCIS 'catwalk', leaning on the metal barrier and surveying the team below him. The scene was not one he was accustomed to. McGee wasn't there. More than likely he was off comforting Abby Scuito, their overly emotive forensic scientist. Gibbs was sitting at his desk, _actually_ doing paperwork. Vance figured it was some sort of coping mechanism; finding out he'd been betrayed by one of the few people he truly trusted, and having them taken away from him all in one week was a bit heavy. Vance shifted his gaze to DiNozzo's desk. He was just sitting there, obviously still hampered by the blue sling encasing his arm. He was turned away from his boss, staring at a small piece of paper in his hand. Vance squinted, trying to make out the picture. It wasn't too hard to recognise; the picture was one of a few like it that had made the rounds at NCIS. And as he stared down at the picture of a bikini-clad Liaison Officer, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow for the Senior Field Agent.

Sensing eyes on him, Vance turned away from the depressing scene, finding himself staring straight into the eyes of Agent Gibbs. His stare was steely, marking his territory. His intent was clear: _Back off. You've done enough._ And with that, Director Leon Vance turned away and marched back into his office, aware of the Agent's eyes on his back the whole time.

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A/N: Thoughts? Want me to continue? Review!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Blah.

WOW. All I can say is thanks for the great response. I've never had that on any of my stories before, so thanks for being so awesome! ;). Okay, so I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but it sets up some other important things. Trust me, it may seem unrealistic, but it's all connected and relevant to the outcome.

So, if you want more review! And feel free to give me any tips or anything on writing, etc.

Enjoy, and review!

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Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs had never felt the way he did at that moment. The moment in Vance's office, when he had learned the truth. He'd hidden it well; the surprise, that is. Anyone might have guessed that he'd known all along of Ziva's betrayal. But no. For the first time in his life, he hadn't known the truth. His gut just hadn't kicked in.

He glanced around the squad room, remembering the blasé manner in which Vance had told him the truth. As if it was unimportant, an insignificant detail. Gibbs sighed quietly and took a sip of his coffee. It wasn't nothing. It was everything. He'd trusted her from the first moment, based solely on one detail, one moment.

"_Sorry to spoil your-"_

_Bang. Footsteps. Ziva. Crying. _

He shook his head and dropped his now empty coffee cup into the trash. He couldn't believe he'd been fooled. He thought he knew her. He thought he _trusted_ her. He'd been wrong. And he needed caffeine. He left the squad room, brushing off McGee, and walked straight to the café down the road.

Usually he'd get a feeling, just a small inkling that something wasn't right. But when he thought about Ziva, he knew that just hadn't been there. He hadn't had a clue. And somewhere, deep down, that made him think that perhaps it wasn't all a mission to her. At the beginning, maybe, but he was sure after the initial awkwardness, she began to feel like part of the team.

He bought his regular coffee- all the workers at the café knew him by name- and made his way back to headquarters. He was about to step into the elevator when a voice cut into his train of thought,

"Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs turned around to see the slightly out of breath mailman holding out a manila envelope. "Yes?" He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"This just came for you. I would have brought it up, but you were here so-"

"Thanks," Gibbs said, cutting the young man off abruptly and taking the envelope out of his hands.

The mailman nodded, somewhat awkwardly, and scurried away. Gibbs resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he turned back to the elevator and stepped inside. DiNozzo curiously eyed the envelope in his hand as he stepped into the 'bullpen' and sat down in his chair. He threw the envelope onto his desk with an audible thump, took a sip of his coffee, and turned back to his computer. Only a moment later, his desk phone began to ring.

"Special Agent Gibbs," he said, answering his phone in the usual fashion.

"Hey, it's Mulvaney from Dispatch. We got a call in about ten minutes ago requesting you guys out to a scene in Virginia." He paused, presumably looking over files. "Not really sure of the authenticity of it. Didn't give us much; just asked for you, gave an address and hung up."

Gibbs ran a hand through his hair and glanced around the squad room. One look at his senior field agent told him it was not a good idea to send him into the field just yet. McGee only looked moderately more able. He turned his attention back to the phone call.

"Address?"

Mulvaney gave him the directions and Gibbs wrote them down on a note pad.

"Okay, got it."

After hanging up, Gibbs turned to McGee. "Grab your gear."

"Boss?"

"Got a case. Let's go."

Tony made to get up too, but Gibbs made a sit down motion with his hand. "I don't want you out in the field today."

Tony opened his mouth to protest, but Gibbs cut him off before he could speak.

"You aren't focused. You'll just be a liability. You're staying here." He was resolute.

Tony just stared at the two other agents as they walked toward the elevator, McGee dropping one apologetic look back toward Tony as he stepped out of view.

* * *

The ride to the scene was awkward. It was McGee who eventually broke the silence.

"Hey boss? I was wondering... I mean... I thought maybe I..."

"Spit it out, McGee." Gibbs didn't even look at the younger agent as he spoke.

McGee sighed inwardly. "What's going on with Ziva?" he finally blurted out.

Gibbs took a sharp right. "She's in Tel Aviv."

"I know that, but..." McGee tried to form a coherent sentence, but there were so many things he was confused about, so much that hadn't been cleared up. "But why?"

"She wasn't ready."

McGee furrowed his brow. "I don't understand."

"You don't need to, McGee." Gibbs took another right; McGee grabbed onto the side of the car to steady himself. "It all comes down to trust." Only Gibbs fully understood the implication of his words; the double meaning.

"Trust? I'm still not sure-"

"Just remember McGee," Gibbs said, pulling into a driveway and parking the car. "Things are not always as they seem."

McGee was about to speak again, feeling even more confused than before, but Gibbs again cut him off.

"Where are the local LEOs?" Confusion.

McGee shrugged, looking around at the empty surroundings. The house before them was a typical suburban house, painted a rich shade of crème. Both of the agents stepped out of the car and walked around to the trunk, opening it and pulling out their coats and caps.

"Ah well, let's go in and find out what's-"

Suddenly, there was a flash of light both agents were knocked off their feet by the force of the explosion. The ground trembled ominously and flaming debris scattered around their prone bodies. Gibbs was only vaguely aware of the screams, intense pain, a shout and then nothing.

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A/N: So... thoughts? Anyone got any theories? If you enjoyed it, please review!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. Duh.

Well, this is chapter number three. Kinda slow, but the next chapter is better. I actually like it. I've written the next couple already, so review if you want more!

As always, enjoy!

* * *

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn't remember anything after stepping out of the car. There was just a blank spot in his head, and as much as he tried he just couldn't seem to fill it. He'd woken up to commotion, screaming, and heat. Intense heat. He'd tried to move, but found himself unable. He tried to speak, to yell, but he couldn't even open his mouth.

"_On three lift." _

Voices! He tried to crane his neck in their direction, but they seemed to be all around him. He felt his eyes fluttering open, and was surprised by the pain that accompanied the small action.

"_One. Two. Lift!" _

And then he felt weightless. And he was moving. Moving. Moving?

"_His eyes are opening!"_

A face blurred his obscured his vision, but everything so blurry... he couldn't make out... the sirens were beating into his mind... sirens?

"_Special Agent Gibbs. You've been in an explosion. You're on the way to the hospital. We're going to take care of you." _

Explosion. No. They'd been at a scene. There was no-

Suddenly, a terrible thought gripped him as he forced a word out, his voice raspy and urgent, "McGee!"

There was a pause. Only small, but there. God, he wished her could see properly.

"_The other agent was taken in another ambulance. I expect they'll be arriving a short time before we do." _

Gibbs tried to speak again, but the paramedic shushed him.

"_Don't speak, Agent Gibbs. You need to relax. We'll take care of you. Just try not to fall asleep. That's important." _

Gibbs didn't bother nodding or acknowledging that he'd heard the man. The pain had dulled slightly, but he still wanted to cry out. As the sirens continued on, paramedics fussed over his wounds, and the ambulance drove on; Gibbs wondered when it had all gone wrong.

* * *

"You're going to be fine, Agent Gibbs," the attending nurse was saying. "We'll need to keep you here a week or so for observation and to continue attending to your wounds, and we need to run a few more tests, but you should be able to leave next Wednesday at the latest. Until then, we'll keep you on medication, so you can't leave the room without permission."

"I didn't ask that," Gibbs growled, "and you know it. Just tell me how he is."

The nurse hesitated. "You're not in good condition right now. I've been ordered to keep stress levels at a minimum."

Gibbs pushed himself up, ignoring the pain. "I will get up and go see him myself if you do not tell me his condition."

"Agent Gibbs. You can't leave this bed. You need time to-"

Gibbs scowled and pushed himself up further, to demonstrate his intent. The nurse creased her brow worriedly.

"Okay," she said resignedly, her voice slightly high-pitched. "Just give me a minute."

Gibbs lay back down as he waited for her to return. It was just as well she did go; he wasn't sure he'd even be able to make it out of the room in his current state. Whoever planted that bomb sure wasn't messing around.

The nurse stepped back into the room, closing the door softly behind her. Gibbs didn't miss the look of concern that crossed her face as she turned back to him. She held up a file.

"I have his notes here. I can't go into details; you aren't family."

"Good or bad?"

She looked confused. "Excuse me?"

"His condition," Gibbs said. "Good or bad?"

The nurse sighed, holding the file to her chest, and took a step toward the end of Gibbs' bed. "He suffered extensive injuries. When he fell he broke his right collar bone, and a burning piece of debris that landed on his clothing gave him burns from his left ankle to just above his knee. They aren't as bad as we originally thought, but risk of infection is still quite high." She paused as Gibbs absorbed the information. Then she went on, "He also received several cuts and bruises, and received a bump to the head. We aren't sure of the damage just yet; he needs to wake up before we know more."

"He isn't awake yet?" Gibbs was no expert on medicine, but her knew when someone hadn't woken after a head injury it generally wasn't good news.

"He regained consciousness briefly just after he arrived here, but was disoriented and confused. He tried to talk, but nothing made sense. The doctors thought he had a concussion."

"And now you think it's something more serious." It wasn't a question.

Hesitation. "Yes."

Gibbs nodded and fell back against the pillows, thoroughly drained. He couldn't believe it. Only a few weeks ago he'd been sitting in the squad room watching his agents bickering playfully. He'd, of course, pretended to be exasperated by their behaviour, but secretly he enjoyed it. Now one of them was overseas and hadn't made contact, one depressed, and the other unconscious with serious injuries. Gibbs closed his eyes and spoke resignedly,

"Is there a phone I can use?" He opened his eyes and focused his gaze on the nurse in the corner of the room, who looked thoroughly uncomfortable, and, much to Gibbs' dismay, sympathetic. He couldn't explain it, but he'd always hated sympathy.

"Of course," she said gently, walking around to the other side of the bed where there was a small table that he hadn't noticed before. On the table was a phone. He mentally cursed himself for being so unobservant. The nurse picked up the receiver and handed it to him. He ignored the pain in his arm as he took it from her. "Just dial zero and then the number you wish to call," she said.

He nodded and she left the room. Gibbs took a breath and dialled. It was picked up almost instantly.

"Agent DiNozzo."

"Tony." His voice was rough.

"Gibbs! Where are you?" came the worried voice of his senior field agent.

"I'm at the hospital. There was a bomb-"

"Gibbs. I know," Tony interrupted. "Are you alright?"

Gibbs did a double-take. "How do you know?"

"Explosion in a suburban area? It's all over the news. Mulvaney came up and told us it was the house you'd just been to. Harvey's team has gone over to process the scene now." He paused, and then said deliberately. "You didn't answer my question. Are you alright?"

Deep breath. "You should get down here, Tony. Bring Abs and Duck if you can. I'll handle Vance."

"Gibbs, what-"

"Bethesda, Tony. Now." And he hung up.

Tony stared at the phone in his hand for only a second before getting up. He was about to race down to the lab when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Gibbs' unopened letter from that morning. On a whim, he grabbed the envelope, before running down to get Abby and Ducky.  


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A/N: So, envelope is important. Any guesses as to what's inside? As always, thanks for reading, and review for more!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: No. Not yet.

Well, I guess the last chapter sucked. 28 reviews less than the first chapter. story is rapidly descending into more and more suckiness. So. This chapter is bringing Ziva back into it. Sort of. Well, she's brought into it, but not at the same time. As in she doesn't appear. But she does. Confused? Sigh. I'm confusing myself. Just read and find out. ;D.

And review. If you want more that is. But also if it really sucks. Cause I want to know. Seriously. TEN. (Only Australians would get that. I think.) Wow, I'm in an odd mood. But a good mood 'cause I go for the Saints. (Aussies again.) Anyway, enjoy! And review.

* * *

"Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god."

They were in the car on the way to the hospital and Abby was clearly _not_ taking the news of the explosion very well. She was situated in the back of the car, Tony in the passenger seat, and Ducky was driving.

"Oh my god. Oh my god. What if they're dead?"

Tony sighed. "They're not dead, Abby. Gibbs called me."

"But what about McGee," she persisted. "What if _he's_ dead?"

"He's not dead, Abs."

"How do you know?"

"Gibbs would've said."

She clenched her fists, worry set deep into her features. "But, _Tony_. Gibbs never says anything. What if something is terribly wrong?"

"I don't know, Abby," Tony said, half concentrating on the overly emotive forensic scientist, half being sullen that he was unable to drive with his arm still in a sling. Not to mention that fact that he couldn't seem to get Ziva out of his head... "We just have to wait until we arrive."

"I can't wait that long!"

"Abby-"

"What if he's dying?"

"Abs-"

"Or lost a limb-"

"Abby, please-"

"Or brain dead?"

"ABBY!" Tony shouted, thoroughly sick of her ranting. Surprised by Tony's sudden outburst, Ducky accidentally swerved the car into the other lane. A car horn beeped and he quickly swerved back.

Abby snapped out of her head space immediately, staring at Tony open-mouthed. "I'm just..." And then a tear ran down her cheek.

That was when Ducky cut in. "Tony," he admonished gently.

Tony huffed and sat back in his seat, careful not to move his arm too much. It wasn't that he wasn't worried about McGee and Gibbs; he just didn't care much for Abby's ranting, especially when he was already feeling like crap.

They arrived at the hospital sooner than expected; usually when Ducky drove they took ages to get anywhere. This time, however, he drove far more erratically, either due to worry, or frustration over Tony and Abby's constant bickering.

* * *

Gibbs' room was small, with two chairs at the side of the bed. Abby flew in and immediately hugged Gibbs, before worrying that she'd hurt him somehow and having a little freak out. Ducky smiled at his old friend and wished him well, before taking up a seat beside the bed. And Tony... Tony just stared. Because at that moment he thought it was too much, everything was just too much.

"You look like crap," he said after a moment. It was true. Gibbs' face was scabbed and drawn. He had numerous scrapes and bruises along his arms, and he looked tired and unshaven.

"Thanks," Gibbs muttered dryly.

Abby cut in. "Where's McGee?" she asked, somewhat apprehensively.

Gibbs swallowed. "He's not so good, Abs."

She bit her lip and Gibbs put a hand to her cheek.

"But he's a fighter. And he's gonna pull through, okay?"

Abby nodded, her eyes watery.

Gibbs nodded to Ducky. "Can you take her to see him?" he asked. "And get an update on his condition."

Ducky nodded and pulled Abby up. It wasn't until they'd left the room that Gibbs spoke again.

"DiNozzo," he said.

Tony looked up, still standing next to the doorway. "She still hasn't called," he said.

Gibbs opened his mouth to speak, but Tony cut him off,

"And I know how ridiculously selfish I am- thinking about her when you and McGee are hospitalized. I know, and yet, I can't stop thinking about her. She should have called by now, right?"

"Tony-"

"And I know she was really angry at me and all, but I always thought she'd just forgive me, you know? I always thought no matter what happened we'd still be able to be friends or something."

Gibbs didn't miss the 'or something' tacked onto the end of that sentence. "DiNozzo-"

"And I know how self-centred I am. I'm such a horrible person, thinking about her at a time like this. Believe me, I know." He sunk down into the chair beside his boss' bed. "I know," he whispered.

Gibbs looked down at the other agent. "You done?"

Tony nodded. Gibbs slapped him over the head.

"Thanks, boss. I needed that."

Gibbs didn't say anything, just looked down at the large envelope in Tony's lap. "Playing mailman, DiNozzo?"

It was then that Tony remembered that he'd even brought it. "Oh, yeah, right. I saw this on your desk-" He held it out; Gibbs took it- "and thought you might need it, in case it was important. You know, didn't know how long you'd be stuck here."

Gibbs studied Tony for a moment, before inserting one finger under the flap of the envelope to open it. Then he tipped it upside down.

And two things then happened simultaneously.

The door flew open and Abby ran into the room. "He's awake! McGee's awake!"

But Tony and Gibbs weren't listening. They were both staring with horrified expressions at the item in Gibbs' hand.

"Didn't you hear me?" Abby said. "McGee is _awake!_" She peered curiously at Tony and Gibbs. "What's going on?"

Still, they didn't acknowledge her presence. She stepped forward timidly, her previous cheer evaporated. Peering over Gibbs' shoulder, she gasped.

For in his hand, in a gentle coil, lay a broken chain. In the centre was a Star of David charm, tainted only by a smear of blood on the surface.

"Ziva..." Abby whispered softly, her voice shaking ever so slightly.

Ducky stepped into the room, unaware of what had just happened. "Great news, is it not?" he said heartily. "Timothy will be..." He trailed off, taking in the sight before him. "Oh my..."

They sat in silence for a moment, before Tony jumped up, kicking the chair away from him. In horrified awe, mouth slightly agape, he stepped backward, stopping only when his back hit the wall. "No..." he muttered, his eyes never leaving the chain. "No, no, no..."

"Tony..." Abby said, reaching out toward him. Tony side-stepped out of her reach, still staring at the chain. He couldn't believe it. What did it mean? Was it some cruel joke? Was she even still alive? It was then that he looked around, taking in the piteous stares. He took a deep breath.

"So we're gonna find out who did this? We're gonna find her, right?" He knew he sounded desperate, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "We're gonna go get her?"

None of the expressions changed. No one said a word. Tony slumped against the wall, defeat written all over his face.

And they fell into an uneasy silence.

* * *

A/N: Congratulations to **day dreaming about you** for correctly guessing that the chain was in the envelope. Good work!

Anyway, thoughts on this chapter. Good? Bad? So-so? Critisism? Review and tell me!

Review if you want more!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimers are stupid. As if I own it.

So this is chapter five. And guess what... Ziva's actually in this one! Shocking, I updates may be slightly slower from now on. (I have exams this week so I'm being inundated by homework and revision tasks.) Gah, I hate exams.

Anyway, enjoy.

And please review!

* * *

The brutal assault had been going on for days. Kick, punch, insult, cut, demand information. It had long ago become routine. She didn't know why they were bothering; she was Mossad, she wasn't going to give up information. The one thing that had her stumped was why they wanted information on NCIS. And how they knew so much about her. They must have known she was trying to infiltrate the camp. They must have been tipped off. _Rivkin... _She shook her head. But he was dead. It was impossible.

Thinking about him still left a dull ache, but she was now going over information in her head about him, compiling the facts. She'd been blind-sighted by her feelings for him before, and now that the initial heartache had receded, she was finally allowing herself to consider the whole story. She'd long ago realised that occupying her mind helped ease the pain that her captors were inflicting. It came in bouts; every so often they'd torture her for a few hours, demand all the same information, she'd remain stoic, and then they'd leave. But they'd be back. She knew it.

Thing were starting to make sense now, if you could call it sense. It actually all seemed a little crazy to her. But maybe Rivkin had really been working for the other side. It would explain a lot. He could have turned rogue, just like...

_Ari..._

The name left a bitter feeling behind. Both of guilt at killing her beloved brother, and of anger at his betrayal. She turned her attention back to Rivkin and tried to picture the situation. He was asked to infiltrate the training camp, gain trust, get contacts. Maybe he'd liked what he saw. She shook her head, an action that brought immense pain. Wincing, she made a mental note not to do that again. If anything Rivkin was anti- terrorism. He would never just join, surely. But then again, had she ever really known him at all, or was it all fake. The thought scared her; she didn't know who she could ever place her trust in again. Then, she realised with some chagrin, she'd probably never have to worry about that; there really wasn't much chance of her getting out of this.

She considered the alternative- he'd been found out, caught. Maybe they'd offered safety if he turned against his own agency, brought information to them. So he agrees, returns to Mossad with no one the wiser. He'd probably told them all about her; that was how they knew she was undercover, that she wasn't really interested in joining the cell. That still didn't explain why they were so interested in NCIS. The more she thought about it, the more she knew there was a reason, an important reason. It was lurking at the back of her mind, like a name on the tip of your tongue. Every time she thought she had it, the thought got further away, taunting her, flittering just out of mind's reach.

Suddenly, the door opened.

"Ready for round four, princess?"

She remained composed, her face not giving away a thing. He grabbed her hair, yanked her head up. She couldn't help the cry of pain that escaped her lips. The man smiled self satisfactorily.

"Now," he said, his breath foul. "Tell me everything you know about the American Navy's security plans."

And there it was. The thought she'd been trying to get for so long.

They wanted the Navy's defence tactics.

Which meant they were planning an attack.

Which was bad. Very bad.

* * *

It was not until Ducky had taken a distraught Abby away to get a Caf-POW! that Gibbs had shared with Tony the rest of the contents of the envelope. He'd noticed it before, but kept it to himself, a good idea judging by Abby's reaction to the bloodied necklace. Gibbs counted out four photos as he pulled them from the envelope.

"Tony," Gibbs said, staring down at the younger agent. Tony looked up, almost as if in a trance. Gibbs wondered vaguely if it was a good idea to be showing him the photos. "There's something else."

"Pictures." It was a statement.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "How did you know?"

Tony laughed dryly, looking away. "There always is."

Gibbs nodded and held up the papers. "Do you want to see them?" Better to give him the choice. Tony didn't hesitate,

"Yes."

Gibbs handed him the pile without a word.

The first was of an empty hallway. At the end was a doorway, the door wide open, revealing a slumped figure in the centre of the room. The second showed an arm bound to a chair, cuts criss-crossing along the pale skin. The third was of her face, swollen and bloodied. Her head had been pulled back by her hair. Her faced showed no emotion. The last photo was taken from what Tony presumed to be the doorway. A hooded man was behind her, one hand holding her hair, the other pressing a knife to her throat. She didn't look scared or worried. Her face was wiped of any such feelings. She looked completely blank.

Tony expression didn't change as he leafed through the photos, carefully studying each one before returning it to the bottom of the pile. When he had finished he cleared his throat and dropped them onto the bed.

"So, we're going to get her, right?" he said, his gaze burning into Gibbs. His voice wavered only slightly.

At that point, Gibbs found himself truly proud of his senior field agent. He gave a small smile.

"Hell yes."  


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A/N: So, what did you think? Out of character? (I tried to keep it as in character as possible, but I'd love your views on it.)

Also, I was wondering which has been your favourite chapter so far. Just out of curiosity of what the readers like...

So, review!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Eh. You all know I don't own it.

I have this bug I can't seem to shake, so I'm filling my spare time writing this. Sorry for the wait- I had exams. Bu they are now over. Finally! I am rewarding the wait with a slightly longer chapter than usual. Thanks to all that have reviewed so far! Keep it up.

Also, I got this idea from another story- When you review tell me your favourite line from the chapter (and any other chapters if you wish). I'd love to know what you like. So. Enjoy! And review!

* * *

The newly awoken Special Agent Timothy was sitting up in his hospital bed, glancing anxiously at the usual energetic forensic scientist; she had not spoken a word since arriving in his room for the second time. It had been Ducky who'd sat her down on a nearby chair before breaking the news to him.

With some apprehension, he carefully broached the subject.

"So Ziva's been-"

He was cut off almost immediately; it was Abby that spoke. "Yes."

Shaken by her cold reply, he changed tactics. "And we don't know where-"

"No."

With some frustration, he continued, "And her necklace was-"

"Yes."

He took in a breath of air, somewhat assisted by the nasal canula, unaware of his tightening grip on the side of the bed. It was Ducky that gently peeled his whitening knuckles of the railing and clasped his hand in his own. "We only know what we have told you, Timothy."

Shocked by the uncharacteristic gesture, McGee just nodded as Ducky dropped his hand and stood. "I think I will go check on Anthony and Jethro. I trust you will be alright here for a few minutes?"

McGee nodded again, eyeing Abby in his peripheral vision. It was not until Ducky had left the room that he worked up the courage to speak. "Abby?" he said softly.

Her hands were clasped in her lap and she was hunched over, her pigtails hanging limply over her shoulders. She inspected a nail absently, but said nothing.

McGee sucked in another breath and eyed her cautiously. "Abby. She's going to be okay. It's Ziva we're talking about here."

"She's not invincible," she muttered quietly under her breath, still not looking up.

McGee tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. "She's as close as they come."

"No," Abby muttered. "She's not. She's just like us."

McGee stopped trying to smile. "Abs, she's a trained assassin," he said softly. "And anyway, how do we know she's even in that much trouble? It's just a necklace."

"A bloodied necklace," she reminded him distractedly, still fiddling with her nail. When McGee was just about to speak, she shot to her feet. McGee jumped, perplexed by the sudden action.

"Abby?"

She stuttered slightly, racing for the door. "I, uh..." Her hand clasped the door handle. "I have to go."

And she was gone.

McGee leant back in his bed, staring at the door, more confused than ever.

* * *

"When are you going to be discharged?" Tony asked from his seat beside the bed.

Gibbs just glared at him.

Tony glared back. "You are not leaving until you're discharged."

Gibbs picked up one of the photos and shoved a finger at it pointedly. "They aren't going to keep her safe until I'm discharged. You want to help her or not?"

Tony swallowed, momentarily transfixed by the photo in his boss' hands. Still, he held his ground. "When are you to be discharged?"

Gibbs growled. "I'm not waiting until Wednesday, DiNozzo."

It was then that a new voice entered the conversation. "Yes you are, Special Agent Gibbs." Vance crossed the room to the side of his bed, ignoring the glares he was receiving. "And that's an order."

Gibbs pushed himself up in the bed. "With all due respect, _Director_, I don't really give a crap about orders right now."

Vance's expression didn't falter. His eyes swept over the two agents silently, and finally fell upon the photo in Gibbs' hand. He stared at it for a moment. Then, "Where did you get that?"

Gibbs held Vance's gaze, putting the photo face down so it was not visible anymore. "You don't seem surprised."

Vance said nothing.

"You knew." It wasn't a question.

Gibbs took a breath in and clamped his mouth into a thin line. Without shifting his gaze, he spoke to DiNozzo. "Leave the room, Tony."

Tony just stared at Vance, anger clear on his face. "You-"

Gibbs cut him off. "It wasn't a request, DiNozzo. Go. Now."

Tony's gaze lingered on Vance for a moment longer, before he stood up and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Gibbs broke the silence first. "Were you going to mention this?" He held up the photo.

Vance considered. Then, "No."

"And why not?"

"I figured you were going to go on some sort of heroic mission to save her. I can't afford to lose-"

"Ziva."

Vance looked up, startled. "What?"

"_Her_ name is Ziva," Gibbs said, shaking the photo. "And she's one of us."

Vance sighed. "She's a Mossad officer, an _assassin_," he said. "And she betrayed both the agency and you."

Gibbs shook the thought of her betrayal from his mind. It didn't matter now. "Doesn't change anything. She's still one of us. She needs help."

"I can't help her," Vance said. "And neither can you. If Director David can't do anything, you can't either."

"David? He's the one that told you?"

Vance stared at Gibbs for a moment before answering. "Yes."

"Why?"

"He felt we should know."

Gibbs scoffed. "David doesn't give a crap about us. He has an ulterior motive."

"You don't know anything about him, Agent Gibbs."

"I know enough!" Gibbs said, his voice rising. He looked at Vance for a moment longer before speaking again; his voice was much quieter, but equally threatening. "What kind of man sends his daughter to kill her only brother?"

"A man that had no other choice," Vance answered.

"Oh please," Gibbs said, shaking his head in disbelief. "The man is insane. He treats her as a commodity, a possession to own and use. Would you ever do that to your daughter?"

"You can't talk to me about my daughter."

Gibbs shook his head, disgusted. "And you can't talk to me about mine." He took a long pause. "I'm going to save her, whether you like it or not."

Vance looked over Gibbs, taking in his steely expression. He stood; dusting off his hands, he spoke in a low voice. "I know nothing of this little mission. Do what you like. _Off_ the books. I want no reason to send agents after you. Are we clear?"

Gibbs nodded. "Crystal."

Vance gave a smile and nodded once. "Nice talking Agent Gibbs. Hope to see you back at work as soon as possible," he said formally in a loud, clear voice.

Gibbs just watched as he left the room.

* * *

Ducky and Tony were sitting together stoically when Abby raced up. "I need the necklace," she said, shoving her hand out.

Tony looked up, frowning. "Abby-"

"Give it to me!"

Tony hesitated for a moment, before pulling the chain out of his pocket and placing it into her hand. "I don't think you'll get any-"

But she was already gone.

Tony glanced at Ducky, confused. "What-"

Ducky stared off in the direction the forensic scientist had run. "I have no idea."

* * *

A/N: What do you think? Why is Abby acting so strangely? I know alot of you were looking forward to the Vance/Gibbs confrontation. Did I do it justice?

Review with your favourite lines! ;D.

Oh, also: Just so you know, I haven't forgot about the bomb and it will be explained so don't worry about that.

Review! It makes my day. :D.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own.

Sorry for the slow update. I had exams and other school related annoying stuff. Also, I've been sick and sleeping like 15 hours a day. Sigh.

I think this chapter's kinda rough and I don't know... You be the judge.

Anyway, enjoy.

And please review!

* * *

"I do not know anything about NCIS's plans! They are _highly_ confidential. Nothing is more important to them than national security!" She was sick of the tedious questioning, and somehow just snapped. Realising her outburst, she closed her mouth quickly.

The man shook his head and took a step toward her battered body, his footsteps echoing ominously in her concrete cell. "Not America's security. Israel and the middle east."

Despite herself, curiosity and frustration got the better of her. "What?"

"Tell me what they would do to respond on an attack on Israel or the Middle East."

Her stomach dropped. "You want to bomb Israel?"

"Very good. Now," he began, twisting the knife in his grip. "Tell me about their plans."

Her swollen lips curved upward. "You have said those words so many times now they have lost all meaning." She tilted her head; only slightly, as any farther pained her. "This must be frustrating for you."

Instead of reacting as she'd had thought he would have- lashing out violently- the man gave a throaty laugh, still caressing the knife. "I have been wondering," he said, "what is it that is holding you back. Do you think you have a chance?"

"No," she answered truthfully. "But I see no reason to give you information if I am going to die anyway."

"What if I said I would let you live?"

"I would say you were a liar." Her words were laced with malice.

He shoved his face to hers. "What are you trying to do here? Make your daddy proud?"

If the words had any effect on her she didn't show it. Instead, she shut her mouth and turned her head away.

"Ah," he said.

She resisted the urge to say anything.

He continued. "So it is them that are holding you back."

She couldn't help the confused quirk of her eyebrows.

"Oh we know all about your little team over there. I hear you're quite close with them." He gave a smile; his teeth were rotten and yellow, his breath fetid.

She shook her head with some effort, ignoring her heart hammering in her chest. "I do not know what you are talking about."

"Oh?" Feigned surprise. "Well I guess that doesn't really matter anyway. They've been paid a visit."

"Visit?"

"Yes." Another horrible attempt at a smile. "Let's just say I don't think they will be bothering us now."

The door closed; her horrified expression was the last thing visible.

* * *

Forensic Scientist Abby Scuito stood over her bench, examining the evidence Harvey and his team had brought back from the bombed house. She'd sifted through only a small amount when she found the source of the explosion. As she picked it up with gloved hands, she felt a growing sense of dread. It couldn't be...

Walking over to her phone, she dialled the director's office. After a few moments of assuring his assistant that this was urgent, she was finally put through.

"Director," she said.

"Scuito, I told my assistant that I wasn't to be interrupted."

She opened her mouth to speak, but he continued,

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do-"

"Director!" Abby cut in. "You do _not_ want to hang up on me."

There was a moment of silence, then a heavy sigh. "I'm listening."

Abby began to speak, pacing around her lab. "Okay, so I was going over the evidence from the explosion and guess what I found."

Silence.

"Okay, not in a guessing mood. Think 'salami roll wrapped in smores'," she said, waiting for the penny to drop.

It took only a second. "It was ignited the same way as Ziva's apartment was?"

"Yes," Abby said. Then there was a beep. "And this just in..." She made a few clicks, eyes widening as she looked over the screen. "Woah."

"Talk to me, Scuito."

"The blood on the necklace... It's not hers." Her eyes were still fixed on the screen. "It doesn't match her blood type. It's not Ziva's."

Vance didn't have a chance to speak before Abby continued,

"Which means someone wants us to believe she's caught, but she's not, right?"

Vance drew his mouth into a thin line. "Don't get your hopes up just yet," he said. "Keep those results to yourself. There's someone I have to talk to."

He hung up and slowly pulled the phone from his ear. Fingering the receiver thoughtfully, he leant back in his chair.

It seemed trust is a virtue far too hard to come by these days.

* * *

"I can't believe I'm doing this." Tony grunted as he eased Gibbs out of the bed and helped him to stand. While considerably stronger than the previous day, the older agent still wasn't in peak condition. "You do realise I don't condone this in any way, shape or form-"

"DiNozzo?" Gibbs cut in as he walked, albeit slowly, over to the overnight bag Abby had packed for him.

"Yeah?"

Gibbs picked up the bag and stepped into bathroom, closing the door behind him. "Shut up or I'll shoot you," he yelled through the door.

Tony shook his head as a nurse stepped into the room with a clipboard.

"Sir?" she said.

"Hmmm?"

The nurse held the clipboard out to him. "Your friend needs to sign this. It's an AMA form. It basically just states that he's leaving against medical advice and anything that should happen to him as a result of that is not the hospital's responsibility."

Tony took the forms. "Hear that, boss?"

"Yeah," came the reply through the door.

Tony turned back to the nurse. "Hey," he said, "he is alright to leave, isn't he?"

The nurse gave a small shrug. "The tests all came back okay, so there's nothing critically wrong," she said, "however; he _is_ going to be in a world of pain over the next few days so he needs to watch it. Take it easy, you know."

Tony nodded, somehow feeling that Gibbs was going to be doing anything but that. He held up the clipboard. "I'll get this signed and bring it up to the nurse's station on our way out."

"Sure," she said as she left the room, sparing one last disapproving look for Tony.

Tony sighed and turned to his boss as he stepped out of the bathroom, now dressed in civvies.

"You sure about this, boss?"

Gibbs pinned him with a glare.

"What about McGee?"

"We can't take him," Gibbs said. "He'll understand later."

Tony just sighed and grabbed Gibbs' bag from his hand. When Gibbs scowled and tried to grab it back Tony handed him the clipboard.

"Sign."

Gibbs signed the form and put his hand out for the bag once again. Tony held it out of his grip and made for the door. "Let's go."

Gibbs scowled again and followed sullenly.  


* * *

A/N: So the blood isn't Ziva's, but Ziva's still captured. The house was blown up Mossad style, but the terrorist people did it. The terrorists want info on how the Navy'd respond to an attack on Israel or the Middle East and Ziva thinks the team are all dead. Gibbs isn't better, but is leaving the hospital (and McGee) anyway. And it seems trust is just a little too hard to come by.

Confused?

Muhahaha. Never fear. All will be explained eventually..

Review for more!


	8. Chapter 8

Disclamer: Eh. You know the drill.

Sorry for the slow update. But I'm rewarding the wait with my longest chapter yet! Yay...

Well it's finally moving along. sorry to any who were getting bored. i just realised I'm up to chapter eight and they hadn't even gone after Ziva yet. Woah. Slow. And i do realise the unrealisticness of this chapter- you'll see- and I'm very ashamed of that. But I couldn't think of another way for them to find her... I know, I'm a failure... :D.

Anyway, Review with your fave lines! I love that.

So, enjoy. And review.

* * *

Abby didn't heed Vance's warning; as soon as she was off the phone to him she was on the phone to Gibbs.

"Gibbs! It's not her blood!"

While she sure hadn't expected a public display of jubilation- it was Gibbs, of course- she had at least expected relief. Instead, she was greeted with:

"Anything else, Abs?"

Confusion won out over logic. "Didn't you hear me, Gibbs? I said-"

"I know what you said, Abs. I'm asking if there was anything else on the necklace."

She furrowed her brow. "Well no, but I don't see why it's important anyway if Ziva's safe. Are you sure you understand-"

"I understand, Abby. Check your email."

She was confused, but complied anyway.

"Don't be alarmed, Abby," Gibbs' voice came through the phone. Just open the attachment and stay calm."

As soon as she clicked on the attachment she regretted it. The screen was filled with photos of Ziva. Battered, bruised and bloodied Ziva.

"Gibbs! What is-"

"Stay calm, Abby. These photos were with the necklace. I need you to analyse them. Find anything and everything."

"But Gibbs, how-"

"Abby!" Gibbs yelled. "Just do it." Pause. "Please."

She bit her lip. "Okay. Call you in thirty."

"Make it twenty."

She called him back in ten.

"What did you find, Abs?"

She pressed her lips into a thin line. "No. What did _you_ find? Why are you so sure she's not safe?"

"You saw the photos, Abs."

She narrowed her eyes as she clutched the phone to her ear. "That doesn't mean anything, Gibbs. Someone could be setting us up. It wasn't her blood-"

"You saw the photos," Gibbs said again.

"Yes, but-"

_Oh, Abby, ever the optimist... _

"Just tell me what else you found."

"Gibbs, what-"

"Abs!"

Abby swallowed. "I thought I saw something on Zi... uh, her... her collar."

"And?"

One more try. "If I tell you this will you promise not to go on some crazy mission to-"

"I'm not going to negotiate with you Abby."

She stayed firm. "Then I won't tell you."

Finally, Gibbs lost his patience. "Do you want her to die, Abby?!"

That struck hard. Abby fought back a tear. "Die? She... she could..."

When he spoke again, his voice was soft, but taut. "Abby. Tell me what you found."

Deep breath. Exhale. "I saw something so I zoomed in. It was shady, but pretty distinctive. An insect."

"Yeah?"

"I found out that it is exclusively found in Africa, specifically Somalia."

Pause. "That's good work, Abs."

"Gibbs, please don't-"

"I'll call you later. You did good."

_Click. _

Abby sucked in a breath and dropped to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest.

_But it wasn't her blood... it wasn't her blood... it wasn't her blood... _

She didn't realise she was crying until she dragged a hand across her face and felt the wetness on her sleeve.

And then it turned into full blown sobs. Because she felt absolutely powerless.

* * *

Director Leon Vance held the receiver to his ear, waiting for the click that would tell him that he was connected. He didn't know what Eli David was trying to accomplish, but he was thoroughly sick of the lies, trickery and deception. It was time for the truth, cold hard facts... and Vance knew that this conversation would be no walk in the park.

He was rapidly coming to the conclusion that there was no one he could trust anymore. Once upon a time he would have stayed optimistic, continued to believe that his old friend would have some perfectly good explanation, but those days were gone. Long gone.

_Click. _

"Shalom, my friend," came the familiar voice of Director David. "I was not expecting your call-"

"And _I_ was not expecting my top MCRT team to be blown up at your hand." Bite the bullet. Straight to the point.

Silence. "Are you really accusing-"

"Why, Eli?" Vance cut in, all Director Mode. "Just tell me why."

"Leon, I assure you I had nothing to do with this bombing you speak of. I cannot believe you think that I would be involved." Shock.

Vance leant forward in his chair, a gesture that would have been intimidating had anyone been there to witness it. "Be straight with me, Eli. What are you trying to do here?"

Snap. "I am not trying to do anything!"

"Except kill my team?"

"No!" Eli said. "I promise you I had nothing to do with this. Why would you think so?"

Pause. Sigh. Speak: "The method."

"Method?"

"Yes," Vance said, his confidence in himself wavering. Eli had always had that effect on him... "It was blown up the same way Ziva's apartment was."

And then Eli laughed. It shocked Vance at first; it was not the reaction he had expected.

"And you think that because they had the same method they must be connected?" Another light chuckle. "It is a technique that is commonly used. It is no secret, no 'Mossad special trick'." Tut tut. "I must say I am disappointed in you, Director Vance. It is not like you to jump to such... rash conclusions."

_Director Vance. _

And with that Vance suddenly realised the full extent of what he had just done. He had just severed the best connection he had, the best source of Intel at his disposal. He'd broken a vital rule. _Never_ screw over the director of another agency.

Especially one that had trained assassins at its disposal.

There was a moment of silence, in which Vance fought for words and Eli simmered over this betrayal of trust.

David was the first to speak. "For the record, Director, I had nothing to do with the bombing."

_Click. _

Conversation over.

Vance leant back in his chair, wondering what the hell he'd just done. Incriminated his best connection with no more proof that a method? Ruined international security and relationships. He'd been an idiot; there was no proof that Mossad was involved.

Of course David would deny it. What had Vance expected; that he would just start sobbing and admit? Never. It had gone just as expected. David had denied all involvement, got very pissed and severed the connection.

And the worse part? Vance knew he wasn't lying.

* * *

The flight attendant, Karen Little, had given the silver haired man a strange look as he stepped onto the plane, a not so subtle limp to his walk.

"Are you alright, sir?"

The man had shaken her off. "I'm fine," he said gruffly, brushing past to take his seat.

A tall brown haired man behind him spoke up as he too walked past. "You'll have to excuse him- he left his happy pills at home."

He received a slap over the head for the remark.

Karen raised an eyebrow, but turned away nonetheless, one ear still on the conversation.

"If you don't shut up DiNozzo I'm gonna shove this pen up your-"

She walked to the front of the aircraft, laughing softly to herself.

_Strange couple. _

Taking her place at the front of the aircraft, she began the safety measure demonstration.

"_Welcome aboard everyone. There will now be a short safety demonstration in the event of the need for emergency evacuation. It's a sunny day outside and perfect conditions for flying. Sit back, relax, enjoy your flight and we hope you have a pleasant stay in Somalia..." _

* * *

_A/N: Thoughts? Critisism? Fave lines? REVIEW!  
_


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Eh.

So, this is alot Ziva. Not sure if it's in character. And I worryt hat it's confusing.

Anyway, tell me.

Review!

* * *

Her body was battered, her mind much the same. Still, she wouldn't give in. She'd never give in. She could remember the last time she'd felt cool water trickle down her throat. Her tongue felt like sandpaper, her stomach ached for food. These men knew what they wanted, and they knew how to get it. Death couldn't come soon enough...

--

"_You will go to Somalia. You will finish Michael's job. You will do what you are told." _

_--_

She took ragged breaths, her head lolled forward uselessly, her hands lay prone in her lap, unable to move. She was fighting a battle with consciousness. And losing. She didn't know how many times her eyes flickered open and shut, how many times she jolted herself back into awareness.

--

"_If I go I will never get back." Statement. _

"_Are you saying you are going to disobey a direct order?"Question. _

"_I never said that." Statement. _

_--_

She didn't even notice her captors anymore. They'd come, do what they had to do, and leave. The pain didn't even register. Which made her pretty much useless.

--

"_Then pack your bags." _

"_I am not weak." _

_Pause. "I did not say you were."_

_Another pause. "You did not have to." _

_--_

She was out of it, but she still knew what was happening now. Her captors hadn't bothered her now in days. They were letting her heal.

So they could hurt her all over again.

--

_"They will capture us all. This is purely a suicide mission." _

_"Negativity, Ziva, you know I do not approve of it." _

_Scoff. "I do not wish to seek your approval, director." _

_--_

Death, life. Death, life. It was becoming hard to differentiate between the two.

--

"_Understand, child, this is not a suicide mission." _

"_What is it then? Character building?" _

"_No. It is all part of the plan." _

_--_

The door was shut. Always shut. She began to wonder when the company of her captors had actually become a comfort. She began to wonder when she started to prefer torture over isolation. She just wanted the door open.

--

"_Plan? What plan?" Confusion. _

_A hand on her shoulder. A gesture of comfort that was so alienated she felt sick. "Hush child. Complete the mission. We will talk upon your return." _

"_You really think I will return?" _

"_I know you will." _

_Liar. _

_--_

Her eyes flickered. Her hands shook. Her heart soldiered on.

--

"_A kiss for your father." _

_And she kissed him only because they both knew it was fake. _

--

The door finally opened.

"Ready to talk yet?"

She smiled.

* * *

"Scuito, where the hell is Gibbs?"

"I have no idea, director."

"I don't either. That's why I'm asking."

"Last I heard he was at the hospital."

"We need to find him. I have reason to believe he is in serious trouble."

"How do you know that?" Whoops. Slip of the tongue. "I mean, why would you think that?"

Stop. Size up the competition.

"What do you know, Scuito?"

"What do you know, director?"

--

Trust.

It's a bitch.

* * *

A/N: Thoughts? Confused? Review with your fave lines!


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: As usual.

Well, I'm not sure about this chapter, so I'll just have to see what you think. Too OOC? Anyway, I'm going away for a week and a half, so sorry for the break that will be coming up. Enjoy.

Review!

* * *

The hotel room was smaller than would be expected to accommodate two people, but seemed nice enough. There was a brown couch and a bed with a quilt set of matching colour. A lamp sat on the wooden table beside the bed, along with the usual hotel stationary. A bathroom branched off the left of the room, containing a shower, toilet and sink. The room was by no means five stars, but it was acceptable, especially considering the two men didn't expect to stay long. Their plan was simple; get Ziva back using any means possible.

Tony dropped onto the couch, letting his bag fall beside him. He would have offered to carry Gibbs' too, but the sling still encasing his arm definitely had no allowances for such activities. He watched as his boss limped into the room, his heavy breathing obvious now that they were off the streets.

"You should sit down, Boss," Tony said, watching a Gibbs began rummaging through his carry on. "We both know you're still not one hundred percent-" _more like forty _"-and you need to take it easy."

Gibbs answered Tony's concerns by throwing a cell phone at him. Tony caught it reflexively and held it up.

"Boss?"

Gibbs abandoned his suitcase and walked over to the bed, laptop in hand. "Call McGee."

"Seriously?" Tony raised his eyebrows questioningly. "I thought we were doing this secretly, hush-hush, off the books."

"Well yeah, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, opening the laptop, "but if you think we have a chance in hell of finding Ziva without his help, you ought to just go home now."

"Gibbs. McGee's bedbound, severely injured, and in D.C.," Tony pointed out. "What the hell can he do to help?"

Gibbs looked up from his laptop. "What he's best at- being a geek. Make the call."

"And say what exactly?" Tony said, putting the phone to his ear. "_Oh hey, Probius. Gibbs and I are in Somalia in a fairytale-esque attempt at rescuing our very own damsel in distress from the clutches of almost certain death. We were just calling to ask if maybe you knew where she was all along, and just hadn't thought it a good idea to share the information." _He paused, his face deep in thought as he pretended to wait for an answer. "_Oh... So she _was_ in your freezer all this time. Thanks, man, I'll see you when we get back." _He hung up on his imaginary phone-call and looked at Gibbs expectantly. "Seriously."

Very slowly, Gibbs got to his feet and walked over to Tony, squatting down in front of him so that they were face to face. And proceeded to slap him over the head.

"If you continue to act like the dumbass you have so _impressively_ proved you are, I will have no problems forcing that cell phone down your throat," he said, completely deadpan.

Tony gave an uneasy laugh, stopping immediately when Gibbs' expression didn't change. "I'll be good," he said, dialling McGee. Before pressing call, he turned back to Gibbs, who was once again working on the laptop. "Uh, Boss?"

Gibbs looked up expectantly. "What?"

"What exactly _am _I meant to say to McGee?"

Gibbs looked at Tony for a long moment before speaking. "Keep vague. Don't give away anything specific. Tell him we need information; anything he can find out about where Ziva could be."

"Gibbs," Tony said, chuckling slightly. "I know I make a crapload of bag-the-Probie jokes, but I think he's smart enough to figure out that we're going after her."

"Yeah," Gibbs conceded, "probably. But if I now McGee, that'll just make him feel more inclined to help. Sure, he's initially gonna be pissed we went without him, but after that I think he's going to be able reason and just be relieved that we're doing this and want his help."

Tony let out a breath. "Ah, well. Here goes..." he said, pressing the call button.

* * *

McGee was tired, but couldn't sleep. He was in pain, but couldn't bring himself to up his morphine. And most of all, he just felt helpless.

So when he got the call from Tony he knew he should have been relieved, but he just felt pissed. Pissed at himself. Pissed at Gibbs, Tony. Pissed at Abby. Pissed at hospital personnel. And for some reason that he couldn't identify, pissed at Ziva. Ziva, who was trapped and alone in a foreign place, without help. Ziva.

"McGee." He'd answered the phone the usual way.

"Hey, it's Tony."

McGee sat up a little straighter, despite the pain it caused him. His fingers itched for the morphine button. He held back. "Tony! What the hell's going on?"

"A lot," Tony said after a short pause. "How well are you feeling?"

"Why?"

"You got a computer on you?" Tony asked.

"Yeah..." McGee answered slowly. "Abby dropped off my laptop the day before-"

"Yeah, that's great," Tony cut him off impatiently. "Internet access?"

McGee exhaled. "Tony, what's going on?"

"Internet access?" Tony repeated.

"Yes, but-"

Tony cut him off again. "Good. I need... Gibbs needs you to do something."

"What?"

"Utilize any resources, call in any favours, threaten anyone you need to... McGee, you need to search for Ziva."

McGee creased his forehead. "Abby told me she was in Somalia, Something about a bug or-"

"Yeah, I know. We need a specific location."

"Specific? Tony, what..." he trailed off in realisation. "You're going after her, aren't you?"

Tony didn't reply; McGee kept talking.

"I can come with you, Tony. I need to come with you!"

Tony paused. The silence was thick with tension. "We may already be there..."

"What?!" McGee yelled, forgetting entirely about the sick patients around him. He lowered his voice then. "What?"

"Look McGee. You're in no condition to help here. We need you there anyway, getting us a location."

"Geez, Tony. You're freakin' working blind. What are you planning to do now?"

His answer was instant. "Find Ziva."

"I know that..." McGee said, exasperated. "I meant-"

"I know what you meant." He lowered his voice, almost to a whisper. And when he spoke McGee was taken completely by surprise at the pain his voice held. "_Please_, McGee. I _need_ to get her back. Do this? For me?"

_For you... _

McGee deliberated for only a second. "Fine. I'll get to work on it now."

"Thanks, Probie."

"And Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"We'll get her back." His voice didn't belay the doubt he really felt.

"I hope so, McGee." Pause. "Call when you have something."

"Will do."

McGee was about to hang up when Tony spoke again.

"Hey, McGee!"

"Yes?"

"Up your morphine," Tony said. "You sound like crap."

McGee rolled his eyes as he hung up the phone. He eyed the offending button for a few seconds in the silence that followed.

"Ah, screw it."

He hit the morphine button three times.

And set to work.

* * *

A/N: Thoughts? OOC? Give me some feedback. Fave lines? Critisism?

Tell me what you think!


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Blah.

I'm back and I bring you chapter eleven. I don't know about this. And I think it's kinda unrealistic. But you be the judge.

If I get to 200 reviews I will update quickly!

Review!

* * *

She'd seen this movie once. Well, she'd been forced to. She didn't know why she was recalling it at that moment, bound to a chair, bloodied and void of hope. The memory just flooded her mind, without her even having the faintest idea why. She supposed she really was just going insane...

--

"Come on, Ziva." He pulled her to the couch. "It's a Disney classic."

She'd stolen a glance at the cover. "It is animated," she said, with some distaste.

He'd rolled his eyes and smiled as he picked up the remote. "Well, yeah. It's Disney. Don't worry-" He pressed play and she watched as the usual opening credits sequence played out. "- You'll love it. Maybe we'll even find out you're a girl after all," he teased.

She punched him in the arm lightly, a slight smile on her lips, and drawled, "There are other ways to do that..."

He leant in. "Really...?"

She laughed and patted him on the cheek lightly. "Movie's starting, Hairy Butt."

He chuckled at the familiar nickname. "So it is, Sweetcheeks..."

--

The strange part was, the man in her memory had no face. He had no name. He had no identity. She had mixed feelings about him, ideas of him.

But nothing concrete.

She felt anger. She felt respect. She felt warm. She felt sick. She felt guilt. And most of all, she felt confusion. Because for some reason, though her mind was addled, dehydrated, sick, and hazy, she was sure he was dead.

The memory was irrelevant and unhelpful.

The movie had been terrible in the most entertaining of ways. It was the classic plotline- hero saves damsel- with some incredibly unrealistic, almost drug-induced, dance scenes by usually inanimate objects. He'd gone on to show her each of the Disney movies in his collection, each one as ludicrous as the last.

While she had always liked the concept that everyone could have their happily ever after, their own prince charming, she was not naive enough to believe that life was designed to accommodate such fantasies. People live. People die. People kill. People torture...

She suddenly became acutely aware of a man standing in front of her. It may have had something to do with the bucket of water he'd poured over her head.

"Wake up, princess. We need to talk." He reconsidered. "Actually, you need to talk."

That was when it flooded back.

Tony. He'd shown her the movie.

Tony had killed Michael.

Gibbs had left.

The mission.

Captured.

The endless torture.

"_Let's just say I don't think they will be bothering us now."_

They were all dead.

Vaguely, she wondered how many times she'd forget everything, remember it, and feel the same emotions, before finally she could not recall it at all.

The man before her surveyed her and held up a knife. Blood shone on the tip as he twisted it between his fingers.

"Still not feeling talkative?"

Silence.

"Well, we'll just see about that."

The blade glided down her arm...

* * *

McGee stifled a yawn and glanced at the time at the bottom of his computer screen. 2am. Great. He'd been working for hours and found nothing. As far as he could tell, Ziva had just fallen off the grid. It was clean, meticulous; no trace was left. She had simply... disappeared.

That was when he had a thought. It would be about 9 in the morning there... He picked up the phone, remaining sure to keep his voice down. _God_, he thought, _Vance is going to murder me_. He called the appropriate number, one that took him some time to acquire, and waited for it to connect.

"Shalom."

McGee took a breath. "Shalom, Director," he said, willing his voice to stay strong. "I'm Special Agent McGee of NCIS." He paused. "I'm calling about your daughter."

There was a short silence. "I am listening."

* * *

A/N: Dun dun dun. So Ziva's still having the crap beaten out of her and McGee's righ ton his way to being fired. Or killed. What will Daddy David have to say?

200 reviews an I'll update soon!


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Must we do this every time?

Did everyone see the spoilers? Pretty awesome. Can't wait for season 7!

Thanks to all that have review thus far. Keep it up. It makes my day. ;D.

* * *

Eli David was a meticulous man. He liked everything sorted, plans well thought out, and covers strong enough to handle the highest level of scrutiny. This time, however, he had to admit he had gotten impatient. It was not until far too late that he realised his whole plan had relied far too heavily on other people's involvement. People he wasn't even sure he could trust.

If he had been a better father this would have been a time he would have pulled out a photo of his daughter and reminisced about the good times. Of course, this was not to be. Not only did no photos of such a nature exist in his workplace, but there was really no good times he could think of anyway.

He had spent so much time drilling his children, forcing them into training, forcing them to be adults, that now there was nothing else he could think of. He remembered a time when Ziva was eight. He'd taken her for a walk through a park. The park was full of trees, huge trees with lots of branches. He'd grabbed her hand and pulled her towards one of the larger ones.

"_Climb it, Ziva." _

She didn't even hesitate. Even at such a young age she was able to recognise order from request. She made quick work of the tree, stopping a couple of metres above the ground and securing herself in a Y-shaped branch. She met her father's eyes expectantly. He didn't offer praise.

"_Alright, child." _He put his arms up. _"Do you trust me?" _

She nodded without faltering. _"Ken, Abba." _

"_Then jump into my arms. I will catch you." _

Ziva smiled and pushed herself from the tree. Her father put his hands down and stepped out of the way. Then she hit the ground, sending shockwaves through her small frame. He stood over her.

"_You must _never _trust anyone, Ziva. Never." _His voice was harsh. _"Trust is a luxury you cannot afford. Get up." _

She felt tears pricking her eyes as she got to her feet, dusting herself off, ignoring the pain.

"_Do not cry, Ziva. Fighters do not cry." _

She had blinked the tears back and kept walking, despite the pain. And she lived that way ever since.

Always in pain.

Always hiding it.

David was broken out of his thoughts by the ringing of his phone.

"Shalom."

"Shalom, Director." It was a voice David could not identify. "I'm Special Agent McGee of NCIS." A pause. "I'm calling about your daughter."

Ah, perhaps all was not lost after all...

* * *

It was 2am and neither Tony nor Gibbs had gotten a wink of sleep. The silence that had stretched over the last few hours had been uncomfortable and long. Tony was the one to break it.

"Do you think she's okay?"

Gibbs didn't look up from his laptop. "I don't know." Honesty is the best policy.

"Do you think we are going to find her?"

"I don't know," Gibbs repeated, still not looking up.

Tony persisted. "Do you think-"

Gibbs broke. "What makes you think I know, Tony? All we can do now is wait for McGee's call."

"There must be something-"

"Tony! It's 2 am. Give it a rest." He closed his laptop and gestured to the couch. "Why don't you get some sleep? I think I'll turn it too."

Tony lay down on the couch and stared at the roof. "Alright," he said with little conviction.

The light was flicked off and they were plunged into darkness.

"Goodnight, Gibbs."

Silence. Then, "Goodnight, Tony."

Both men knew the other would get no sleep that night.

* * *

"I am listening."

McGee tried to put together his thoughts. "Ziva... Ziva needs to be rescued."

"That would be a waste of time and resources, Agent McGee. Besides, it would be a pointless task."

"Pointless?" McGee asked, nerves disappearing. "How would it be pointless?"

"Do you know the specifics of her mission, Agent?"

McGee thought for a moment. "I know she was trying to infiltrate a terrorist cell. And I know Rivkin had something to do with it."

"Yes," David said. "And from what I can conclude, the reason Ziva was captured is because Rivkin had told the cell of Mossad and given them information. This means that anyone I send will most likely be also captured before they get anywhere near my daughter. Don't you see, Agent?" David asked, the perfect voice of reason. "All my resources are useless."

"It's a good thing mine aren't then," McGee said.

"Excuse me?"

"The cell knows nothing of NCIS. Agent Gibbs and DiNozzo flew out already."

David laughed. "And you think they will be able to help her? Do they even know where she is?"

"Somalia somewhere. That's where I was hoping you would be able to help us."

David just chuckled again. "Even if they find the place they'll never get out alive. It's a suicide mission."

"I'm sure they have their own resources to call on."

David paused. "I have a general area that we managed to pinpoint. That is all I can tell you, Agent McGee."

"Where?"

"I will not be held responsible for what happens to your Agents as a result of this," David said. "I am only doing this for my daughter."

McGee wasn't sure whether he was being sincere or not. Sure, he sounded it, but as director of Mossad he was surely an excellent liar. "Where?"

Pause. "I will have the location sent to you."

"Thank you, director."

There was another pause. "Believe me, Agent, if you get my daughter back alive I will be the one thanking you."

McGee hung up and waited for the directions to come through. That man unnerved him, but he couldn't figure quite why. Shrugging, he lay back, finally satisfied with himself.

In his office, Eli David leant back in his chair and smiled to himself. The plan was back on track.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. Thoughts? Fave lines?

Review!


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: disclaimers are disclaimery.

Here is the next installment. It's moving somewhere now, so keep reading!

And don't forget to review if you want more!

* * *

The next day Gibbs was on the laptop again at the crack of dawn. From his position on the couch, Tony squinted at his boss.

"What _are_ you doing on that thing?"

Gibbs looked up briefly. "What? You think McGee is the only one with computer skills?"

Tony lay across the couch and stared at a crack in the ceiling plaster. "No. I'm sure there are hundreds of other MIT graduates that really think the only thing you can do on the internet is research."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "And what is it that _you_ spend all your time on the internet doing then?"

Tony laughed nervously and backpedalled quickly. "Oh, Gibbs, you know me- work, work, work..." he trailed off.

Gibbs just smirked.

Tony flexed his hands and looked back up at the ceiling. "So what is you're doing then. I mean, you may think you're good with computers, Gibbs, but the truth is I'm surprised you even found the 'on' button."

There was a moment of silence, in which Tony waited for an inevitable head slap. Instead, Gibbs pressed a couple more keys and then looked up.

"Contacts."

Tony furrowed his brow. Gibbs continued,

"Ziva has contacts. Vance has contacts. I have contacts. When you work with enough people in high-pressure situations you gain certain rights," Gibbs said. "You'd never call these people friends, but they are more than acquaintances. You don't trust them, but you don't distrust them. Contacts, Tony."

Tony shrugged. "So? How is that going to help us?"

"Over the past few days I've been rallying as much support as I can. We're going to need it if we intend to storm a terrorist training camp."

"And what exactly will these people do? How far does their input go?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Some are less willing than others. Some are prepared to go with us."

Tony gave a low whistle. "Got a death wish?"

"Are you saying we're going to die, DiNozzo?"

Tony was saved from replying by the shrill sound of Gibbs' cell phone. Glad for the reprieve, he watched as Gibbs put the phone to his ear. _One of his illusive contacts? _Tony wondered.

When Gibbs hung up the phone and spoke, however, Tony was filled with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. It took a moment for it to fully sink in.

"We got a location, DiNozzo. You better be ready for one hell of a fight."

Tony grinned and turned his gaze back to the crack in the ceiling as Gibbs went over various plans. He sure was.

* * *

Meanwhile, McGee was following a lead of his own. Fresh out of hospital, but still unable to undertake fieldwork for quite some time, the you agent went in search of Roy, NCIS' resident mailman.

"Hey! Roy!" The mailman stopped and turned around, smiling when his gaze fell upon McGee.

"Hey Tim. Sorry, no mail for you today," he said, hoist a bag full of letter higher onto his shoulder.

McGee didn't bother with formalities. "You know that envelope you delivered to Gibbs a few days ago?"

Roy shrugged. "I deliver a _lot_ of envelopes."

"It was large, the Manilla kind," McGee clarified.

Roy tilted his head to the side, deep in thought. Then he snapped his fingers. "Oh, yeah, I remember now. What about it?"

"How'd you get it?" McGee asked, breathy from running.

Roy shrugged. "Normal channels. I can't deliver anything that hasn't gone through security, obviously, being a government building and all. It just appears and I deliver."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, Tim," Roy said, before furrowing his brow. "Hang on..."

"What?" McGee asked, impatient.

"Well," Roy murmured thoughtfully, "I was walking into the building when I was stopped by this older guy. He held out an envelope to me. Said I dropped it. I didn't think anything of it. I mean this bag isn't really the sturdiest of bags." He held up his satchel. A letter fell to the floor as if to reinforce his point. His expression turned to one of fear and worry. "Did something happen?" His tone was urgent.

"Nobody was hurt," McGee said evasively. _Not directly anyway._ "Can you describe the man to Abby- maybe get a sketch?"

Roy shook his head. "No need. Don't they have cameras out the front of this building or something?"

McGee almost head-slapped himself. "Of course! Come with me."

Roy followed anxiously.

* * *

Three Caff-Pows for Abby later, Roy finally pointed out the man on the screen. If he'd been more sure of the times, they could have found him ages ago, but Roy didn't seem a very 'all together' kind of guy.

"You sure?" McGee asked, more than tired.

Roy nodded. "That's him. I'm positive."

Abby sighed gratefully and began a search on the man. "_Finally..._" she said. "Now to relax."

* * *

Four hours later a result came in. Abby squinted at the screen with wide eyes, her blood running cold. McGee walked into the lab and took in the screen.

"Oh, you got a result. Good," he said. Then he saw the name.

"_What the hell..." _

Flashing on the screen, as if in warning, was:

_98% match- Michel Bashan, Mossad. _

Abby tore her gaze from the screen. "_Mossad_ sent the necklace and photos? Call Gibbs. Now!"

McGee was already dialling. He got an automated message in return. "Crap!" he yelled, kicking at nothing. "Out of range!" He looked at Abby desperately. "They were in range this morning!"

"Why would they have moved?" Abby asked worriedly.

McGee dropped down onto a chair. "I gave them a location," he muttered softly.

"Where did you get-"

He didn't let her finish.

"Director David." He paused. "Mossad."

The look on Abby's face mirrored his own.

Oh, they were screwed.

* * *

A/N: Dun dun dun. Hope no one's confused by the storyline. If you are just tell me and I'll try to clear it up. I'm not sure how good this is.

Anyways, review and tell me what you thought. Good? Bad? So-so? Any improvements in mind?

Thanks!


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Superman stole it.

Finally, this chapter is here!

Review with your favourite lines.

* * *

McGee paced back and forth in the squad room. He'd tried to get through to David. No luck. He tried to get through to the embassy. Nothing. And Vance had been out for the past two hours.

He didn't think he'd felt more powerless in his entire life.

So when his phone rang, he pretty much pounced on it.

"McGee," he answered breathlessly.

"Agent McGee," came the voice of Director Vance, "what is it that is so urgent? I am in the middle of something."

McGee didn't waste any time. "The photos we received of Ziva... You know about them?"

"Yes."

"I found out who sent them."

"I told Agent Gibbs the agency was to have nothing to do with-"

"Mossad," McGee interrupted.

"What?"

"Mossad sent them," he reiterated.

There was a pause. "How do you know this?"

McGee told him.

Another pause. "And you're sure?"

"The system doesn't lie, Director. It was a 98% match."

Vance sighed heavily. "Keep this to yourself, McGee. Understand?"

"But, Director," McGee said quickly. "There's something else."

"Yes?"

McGee hesitated. This was going to get him fired for sure. "I spoke to Director David."

"You what?" Vance asked, anger and disbelief filling his tone at once.

"I spoke to him and he gave me a location. For Ziva, I mean."

"And, let me guess," Vance said tiredly, "you told Gibbs and DiNozzo."

The silence told him all he needed to know.

When Vance spoke again, his voice was low. "I will deal with you later, Agent McGee. Until then, I need to contact an old_... friend_." Dial tone.

McGee couldn't be sure over the connection, but he was sure that whoever Vance was calling definitely wasn't his friend.

* * *

"What is it you want, Director Vance?" Today, David answered his phone with no patience at all.

Vance got straight to the point. He figured relations were almost completely screwed anyway. He might as well save his agents. "I want to know why you were the one to send the photos of Ziva to my agents."

"I assure you, Director, I do not know what you-"

Vance cut in. "Don't lie to me, David."

"You are accusing me again, Vance? You did not learn your lesson?"

Pause. He would have none of that. "Michael Bashan of Mossad sent the photos to NCIS. We have forensic proof of that. Now. Talk."

David gave a sigh, seeing no way out. "Yes, I sent the photos, but not for the reason you think."

"Then you better tell me the truth."

Another sigh. "Leon, I received those photos a few weeks ago anonymously. No note. No warning. It was just to torment me."

Vance was impatient. "That doesn't explain how they ended up on Agent Gibbs' desk."

David paused for a long moment. Finally, he said, "She is my only child left in this world, Leon. If I were to send any Mossad operatives in they would surely be recognised. I had to work under the assumption that Rivkin had told the cell everything."

"And?" Vance prompted.

"I thought that if I told you about her capture you would tell your agents. When that failed I emailed the photos to Bashan and asked him to send them to your agents. He included a necklace as... encouragement." David hesitated. "It was my plan that they go save her."

Vance felt the anger boiling up. "Even if it costed them their lives?"

David said nothing.

Vance shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "And the location," he said, filling the silence.

"Pardon?"

"The location, David. The one you gave Agent McGee."

"That was real," David said. "It was the location our Intel had managed to acquire."

Vance breathed out loudly. "I have to go, Director. I need to clean up your mess." He didn't wait for a reply.

* * *

On the other side of the world, Director Eli David heard the dial tone in his ear. He gave a small smile and dropped the receiver into its cradle.

Oh, he could be an excellent liar.

* * *

"The team is set up, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, walking over to him. While still hampered by a slight limp, Gibbs was almost back to original fitness.

Tony looked around at all the men. "These all your _contacts_?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Some."

"And the rest?"

Gibbs looked him in the eyes. "Semper Fi," he said.

And Tony understood.

_Once a marine, always a marine._

He looked down at his still casted arm, wondering if he would be a help or a hindrance. Never mind, he thought to himself. He was going to do this.

Armed, ready, location acquired, and on the way.

Tony felt nothing but calm.

They were finally going to save her.

* * *

"_What is it called? Tell me!" _

She was cold, wet, bloodied and tortured. But still, it wouldn't stop. She had lasted so long, endured so much, surely it was time for it to end.

"_Give up the answer and we will give you mercy." _

Her eyes were closed, her breath ragged. Blades slashed at her body, water was poured over her head.

_There's only so much torture the human body can endure... _

Trembling, sick, and agonised, she made a decision:

_"It's called DOMINO."_

* * *

"_Ready to go in, DiNozzo?"_

He gave a signal. _"Ready."_

"_3,2,1..."

* * *

_

The door flew open.

A name was screamed in a voice filled with pure terror.

Three shots rang out simultaneously.

* * *

She looked down at the ground with glassy eyes, her battered mind only capable of registering the irrational, the unimportant.

_These blood stains are never going to come out... _

Hands gripped hers, trying vainly to shake her into awareness.

But she was fixated, mesmerised, by the bloody rivulets running around her feet. She wondered vaguely if the blood was her own. Surely not. There was far too much.

She felt faint; the world spun.

_Then again,_ she thought, _maybe it is. _

The last thing she saw before she passed out was a face. A man. He was familiar somehow, a man from her dreams. She registered a cast on his arm and two worried eyes staring at her.

Then she was in his arms and he was carrying her from the room. The cast dug into her back, but she was so numb she barely noticed.

_This must be my prince... _she thought.

And then the world spun one last time... and fell away.

* * *

A/N: Well, I don't really like this, but I hope i did it justice.

Thoughts? Critisism? Fave lines?

Review for more!:D


	15. Chapter 15

Disclamer: etc...

Yay, an update. Seriously, I'm dying without anymore spoilers. I NEED spoilers. It's quite sad. Anyway, on to the story.

Review with your favourite lines. It makes me happy. :D.

Preview of next chapter at bottom of page.

* * *

Night wove into day. Day drifted slowly into night. She was floating, hovering on the brink of consciousness. She'd get snippets, flashes, lost words... All with that same murky feeling, like it may not be real at all.

--

"_Think she's gonna wake up, boss?" _

_.._

"_She's strong..." _

But that's not really an answer, is it?

--

Voices, touches, feelings... Slowly, the puzzle began to form some comprehendible semblance.

--

"_Tony?" _

"_Yes, Abby?" _

"_Do you think she can hear us?" _

_.._

"_Sometimes..." _

--

And eventually, she was waking up completely.

--

"_Ziver?" _

"_.." _

"_No, Ziva. Don't try to talk. There's a tube down your throat. The doctors are coming to help..." _

_--_

And she was sure they were, but she didn't notice. Her eyelids were far too heavy...

--

But then they were opening again.

The lights were bright; she winced. Her throat was scratchy, but she was no longer choked by intubation. The man in the seat beside her bed stirred in his slumber. She was careful not to wake him.

Another man dropped the paper he was reading and walked over to her bed hurriedly.

"_Ziver?"_ he said, leaning toward her. _"Ziva, are you alright?" _

She blinked and turned her head from the light pouring in through the slatted shades on the window. He hurried to pull them shut and return to her side.

Her head was pounding as she took in his worried eyes, his unshaven chin. _"What..."_ she croaked.

He poured a glass of water and held it to her cracked lips. _"You're safe now. We saved you."_ He said it as if he couldn't believe it himself.

"_You... saved me?"_ she asked after a small sip of water. _"When... why did I need-?"_

And that's when it all came hurtling back. The pain, no, the _agony_. The endless interrogation. The blood. All that blood.

He must have seen her horrified expression. _"Shhh... Ziva."_ He placed a hand on her back and rubbed comforting circles. It didn't feel comforting. Not to her.

"_Don't touch me!"_ she screamed, shrugging him away.

The other man woke, alarmed. _"Ziva?"_ He put his hand on hers...

"_Get off me!"_ Her hands flew around her in a flurry. _"Get _away_ from me!" _

She saw hurt, worry, confusion. She saw shock.

The men saw a broken, terrified woman.

The doctors saw nothing a strong sedative wouldn't fix.

_She drifted off again... _

--

"_She's been through extensive trauma. In all my years as a treating physician, I have not seen so much pain and suffering. I don't know how she's still alive."_

"_She's a fighter." _

"_She may be a fighter, Agent Gibbs, but her battle is not nearly over. At this point her physical injuries are the least of her worries." _

Pressure on her hand. Someone may have been holding it; she didn't know.

"_She's going to be fine. I haven't given her permission to give up." _

To her:

"_You can do it, Ziva. Just wake up." _

And, oh, how she was trying.

--

Open. Shut. A blink.

"_Ziva?"_ Hurried footsteps. _"Ziva? You waking up?" _

Open. Shut. Open. Shut.

"_Hey, Ziva? You there?" _

Open. Shut.

A squeeze of her hand.

"_Gibbs!"_ A yell. _"She's waking up again."_

More footsteps.

A tired sigh. _"Her eyes are closed, DiNozzo." _

"_They weren't, I swear." _Another squeeze. _"Come on, Ziva. Just open your eyes." _

Open. Shut.

"_See? I told you!" _To her: _"Do it again, Ziva." _

Open. Shut.

"_Good! Again..." _

Open.

"_Oh, thank god." _

_--_

She'd remember that moment later. When the two men were looking down at her; worried, tired, scared.

She'd remember that and think how lucky she was. Really, she needed to remember it; she needed to believe she was lucky, that someone out there cared.

Because the next few days...

Well, they were _anything_ but lucky.

* * *

A/N: So, liked? Didn't like? Tell me. What were your favourite lines?

Review for more!

Preview of next chapter: Daddy David comes to visit. Hmm... I wonder if the lack of luck and his surprise visit could be connected.

Thoughts?


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Eh.

Sorry for the delay. I have been sick.

Review with your favourite lines and again, I am really sorry for the delay. Don't hate me.

In other news, Anyone seen the spoilers? WOOT.

Review!

* * *

At first the beeping was annoying. Like an insistent tick, it kept going, pounding on his mind. Soon, though, it became soothing. It told him she was still alive; that even though she looked lifeless and empty in that stark white bed, she was still there. Somewhere.

He couldn't explain the relief he'd felt when she'd woken that second time. And he couldn't explain the terror he'd felt when she woke up the first time. A screaming, vulnerable, panicked Ziva was not one he had ever known. Nor was it one he had ever wanted to know.

Now perhaps the more annoying tick was that of the clock on the wall. It denoted seconds, all the time she wouldn't talk. All the time he'd try to fill the silence with chatter about movies.

All the time he'd remember that day when they'd found her.

He'd been overwhelmed by the amount of people that were willing to risk their lives to help save someone they'd never met. Tony had supposed it was because so many people had owed Gibbs favours. Also surprising was the fact that they weren't all his old marine buddies. They were young too. It was strange that someone as gruff and distrusting as Gibbs had so many people to call on in a time of need.

The wait had been the worst. Waiting. Wondering. Hoping.

Then the rest had been quick. So fast that he'd barely had his time wrap his head around one moment before the next came and left. One second they were outside and then they were in and shooting. He'd only had room one thing in his mind. Find Ziva. There were eight casualties, all men part of the cell. Another twelve were injured and any survivors were cuffed immediately and later flown to DC. Within Gibbs' little army there were no deaths, but many injuries. They all were taken to a close hospital and treated immediately.

It was only when they got into that room did they see the full extent of what had happened to Ziva. She had been beaten so badly half her face was swollen and her legs and arms were scarred and burnt.

That wasn't the worst thing though.

No, the worst thing was the look in her eyes; haunted, like the world could never be good again. She'd seen him and just stared with this look that would stay with him forever. It spelled one thing- defeat. When he lifted her up she was a dead weight, gone to the world, but she was alive and that was all that mattered.

Now he couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened. Killing Rivkin. Israel. Her disappearing. Somalia.

He wondered if she'd be angry still. He didn't know if he'd blame her. After all, he'd killed her boyfriend.

And yes, she'd been awake at times, but he figured she was far too out of it to even realise his presence. After the first time she'd awoken she had barely said anything apart from greetings and the occasional "I am fine," or "No, I do not need any more morphine."

It worried him that she could be so distant.

He was broken from his reverie by the door opening. What he saw made his heart sink.

* * *

"Where is her room?" Eli David demanded as he made his way to Gibbs.

Gibbs stood up in response, but said nothing.

"Where?" David all but yelled.

Gibbs spoke in an icy tone. "Are you asking as a father or a director?"

There was a moment of silence; the was tension palpable in the stark white hallway. Then David softened. "She is my girl. I wish to make sure she is alright. And..." he trailed off for a moment, "...to make amends. I have not been a very good father in recent years."

Gibbs observed David critically for a moment before pointing to a room on his right. Tony looked up as the two men stepped in, dismay clearly displayed at the intrusion.

"Ziva," David said, ignoring the other man and rushing over to his daughter's bedside. "You are safe." He brought her hand to his lips. "I am so glad."

Ziva, although awake, said nothing. She just eyed her father critically.

As if suddenly acutely aware of his audience, David turned to Tony and Gibbs. "I would like a moment alone with my daughter," he said.

Gibbs turned and left the room, reasoning with himself that David could do nothing to her at this point and after a moment of hesitation, Tony followed.

With the door firmly shut, Ziva finally spoke in a gravelly voice. "Are you done pretending now?"

He turned to her, surprised. "My daughter, why would I pretend to be concerned for you?"

She laughed without humour, and with her dry throat it came out as more of a cough. "Please stop, father. We both know you do not really care. Agent Gibbs and Agent DiNozzo have left now. You have no business lying to my face."

David wiped his face of emotion. "You really do not believe I care?"

"No," she said without hesitation. "I do not believe you ever have. At least not since Tali's death."

"That is not-"

"You spoke of a plan before you sent me away," Ziva said, cutting him off mid-sentence. "I now know what it was."

He looked down at her fragile body and then at her face. He found himself surprised at how blank her expression was, how carefully devoid she was of emotion. It did not match the malice in her words. "Yes?"

She paused, as if collecting her words, then launched into her theory. "You sent me to Somalia knowing I was to be caught. I should have known from the beginning. It was clear, surely, that I had no chance. Rivkin would have informed them of everyone at Mossad, especially the woman he had shared a bed with." She did not feel uncomfortable talking to her father of her sex life. After all, he was barely a father to her anyway. "You knew this. So you sent me in."

"Ziva, are you saying I just wanted you killed?"

She shook her head, silencing him. "No. But I do not believe you would have lost sleep over it if I had of died."

He began to protest, but she silenced him once again with her hand. "I am not going to talk to you about that. It has been a long established fact," she said, her expression not wavering. After a second, she continued, "When I was captured you knew I would be tortured. Tortured for information. You knew there was a cell operating, but you lacked information. You didn't know what they wanted. Any information you received from Rivkin you had to deem unworthy of your time so you needed a new informant. Me."

"Ziva, that-"

She cut him off again. "Your new informant, however, had to be unaware they were doing it. And you knew that if I were to be tortured for information they would ask questions. Questions that would tell you what they wanted."

"That is ridiculous, Ziva. You could have been killed-"

"And _that_," she continued, "is why you sent the necklace to NCIS. To get them involved."

David snorted. "NCIS is incompetent. I could never have relied on them-"

"You say that, Director, but you don't believe it. You've seen them in action. You know what Gibbs is capable of when he sets his mind to it."

There was another moment of silence; a pause that seemed to stretch for years.

Then Ziva smiled. Well, as well as she could in her state. "I am right, yes?" she said, a challenge in her eyes.

David was silent for another moment. Then, "You are far smarter than I give you credit." He looked over her body. "Stronger too. I am proud."

She scoffed. "Of course you are." Sarcasm laced her words.

He didn't bother to console her. Instead he said, "Well?"

"Well what?"

"What did you find out?"

With a wry smile, knowing that she had outwitted the man she had looked up to for so long, she told him. He left without another word, knowing that anything he said would just disappoint her.

It was a strange relationship they had where comfort led to upset.

Anyway, he had work to attend to.

When Tony and Gibbs entered her room once again, after watching David's departure, she was back to her stoic, silent self.

One thing was certain, David brought nothing but trouble.

* * *

A/N: Thoughts, critisism? Tell me.

Review with your favourite lines. Thanks!


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: No. Just no.

Okay, firstly I want to say a huge apology for not uploading sooner. I feel terrible. I won't tell you the entire reason, but essentially it ends with me having surgery, so I'm super dooper massively sorry for not updating sooner. Fell free to yell and scream. I deserve it.

Secondly, I will apologize profusely in advance for this chapter. I fought with it numerous times before giving up and posting it. Turns out I'm not so good with these types of scenes.

Again, I'm really sorry for the lateness. (And before you read the story I just want to say OMG, how good has this season been? *dances* Go TIVA! Go TIVA!) Okay, I'm done. Go. Read. Review. :)

* * *

In the days that followed David's visit, she'd slowly begin to become more animated. It wasn't big things, but then again, with Ziva it never was. Just subtle nods, a closed smile here or there, a reply to a particularly stupid comment. Her friends and workmates would visit and leave, their presence gauged by activity in her. The nurses would always say she seemed better when people were there.

Conversation and company provided a good distraction, no matter how limited her involvement was. Sometimes she'd just lie there, pretending to be asleep, listening to her co-workers bicker about the most inane of things.

"_DiNozzo, you are such a child." _

"_Your mum's a child." _

"_Way to prove my point, idiot." _

"_Your face is an idiot." _

_*sigh* _

At other times, she'd bear witness to more personal conversations, ones she felt she had no business listening to, yet a burning desire to find out what they were saying. It would never be deep. Never meaningful. Just faintly caring, subtly probing, secretly wondering.

"_You good there, DiNozzo?" _

"_Uh, yeah, just a headache, you know?"_

"_Yeah." Soft. "I know." _

_And silence. _

It was ironic that she could get so much out of a 14 word conversation, yet couldn't in any way understand herself.

--

There was only one other person in the room when she finally decided to open up. She hadn't planned it, hadn't thought it through; it had just kind of happened. And, as usual, it wasn't anything special. At least, to anyone else, it wouldn't _seem_ like anything special.

They'd been sitting in silence; her lying on the bed, him sitting next to her. Then, without warning, she just put her hand over his. Her touch was soft and he immediately looked up into her eyes.

"You were right," was all she said.

Tony had stared at her for a moment. Then a smile tugged at his lips, so subtle that if she hadn't known him so well, she never would have even noticed it there.

Then he gave a quick nod, took her hand in his, and they descended into silence once again.

Later, when she was sleeping, he'd leave the room, call the rest of the team, and tell them with a wide grin that she was finally coming back.

--

"_Hey Tony?" _

"_Yeah, Boss?" _

"_Go home. You look like crap." _

"_Aw, thanks Boss. Just what a guy loves to hear-"_

_Slap! _

"_Fine, I'll go if you do too." _

"_Fine." _

_Both men nodded, stood, and walked away. _

_Both men returned five minutes later, coffee in hand, and said nothing. _

--

It was two days later that she laughed at Gibbs slapping the back of Tony's head after a particularly stupid comment. The sound was foreign and throaty and wonderful. Tony continued to say stupid things all night.

--

Gibbs was the first to talk to her about something other than a movie, the goings on at the office, or any of the other mundane ice-breaker approaches to conversation that she'd become so accustomed to. He'd started it with two words. Two words, a narrowing of his eyes, and an icy tone.

"I know."

And she'd been shocked, because up until then he'd been nothing but accommodating toward her. "Excuse me?"

"I know," he repeated, and took a seat next to her bed. "I know what really happened four years ago."

"Four years ago..." Mentally, she did the math. "When I first joined the team?"

He nodded.

She hesitated. "I do not understand."

"You were sent to kill your brother, Ziva." His attitude was as cold as the words he spoke.

She couldn't hide the shock. "I..." she trailed off. "Yes," she said after a moment. There was no sense in lying. Not to Gibbs.

"Hmm," Gibbs tipped his head to the side and pursed his lips together. "Care to explain?"

She swallowed and averted her eyes from his. They darted around for a moment, before finally settling on the lamp on the table next to Gibbs' head. "Yes, I was sent to eliminate him," she began, "but I never intended to. It was not until..." _I saw him aiming a gun at your head. _The unsaid words hung in the air, a thick reminder of their burdened past.

He stood up. "See, Ziva, now we have a problem." He walked to the end of her bad and leant on the railing, pinning her with a hard stare. "You said nothing was more important than trust, hmm?"

She nodded. "I still believe that. I just-"

He cut her off. "You killed your brother, Ziva. You killed a member of your family." He gripped the railing harder. "And you did it to gain my trust."

"No, Gibbs! That's not-" She shook her head wildly, becoming increasingly more distressed.

"Then explain it to me, Ziva! Because I look at you now, and all I can see is your deceit."

She turned her head away quickly as if he'd slapped her. She didn't want him to see her tears. That would not do any good. After what seemed like hours, she finally spoke. "He was not my family."

"What?"

"Ari Haswari," she reiterated. "Ari Haswari, the rogue Mossad officer was not my family. My brother was Ari, the boy who used to help me bandage my wounds when my father didn't care. My brother was the boy who used to take Tali and I to the park and push us on the swings." She took a breath and wiped away a stray tear. "Ari Haswari was related to me by blood, but the boy that was my brother hadn't been there for a long time, Gibbs. It was hard to pull that trigger," she looked him straight in the eye. "but it would have been far harder not to. And when I did it, I was not following my father's orders, I was following my heart."

Gibbs watched her for a long time. Then, with a slight nod of his head, he resumed his seat beside her.

Somehow, though, they both knew it wasn't over. It would take more than that to heal.

--

Tony spent a lot of time at her bedside. She hated it- not because he was bad company; in fact, he was very good company- it was just that she knew she didn't deserve it. Not with everything she'd done to him.

"I almost killed you." Her eyes were glued to the roof, her posture stiff.

It took him a moment to realise what she was talking about. "But you didn't."

"And then I told Gibbs I didn't trust you."

"I hadn't given you any reason to trust me."

She snapped then, and with a flick of her arm, grabbed his hand and jerked his face close to hers. "You never gave me a reason not to trust you, Tony," she said. "You have always been there for me. Always."

Her intensity startled him and he suddenly became all too aware of their proximity. Unconsciously, his eyes dropped to her lips.

"Do you understand, Tony?" she was saying.

He nodded, numb. And then she pulled away, and whatever moment they'd had, was lost.

--

"You want to know something?" Tony asked. He was leaning against the back wall of the room, watching over her.

She looked up at him from her place on the hospital bed. After gauging his sincerity, she nodded mutely.

He bit the inside of his cheek, a nervous habit he'd had as a child. Not willing to meet her eyes, he forced out the words. "I don't think I've ever been so scared."

"When you entered the cell?" Her throat felt like sandpaper.

He shook his head.

"When the men were shooting at you?"

"No."

She furrowed her brow. "When then?"

They stared at each other for a moment in silence, her waiting for him to reply, and him wondering if there was even any point.

"Never mind," he finally said, dropping into a chair at the end of the room. "Doesn't matter."

She didn't push it. Some part of him wondered if she knew what he'd meant. Some part of her knew that she'd never admit it if she had.

--

It was a day later when he came back, a big smile on his face.

"Guess what, David?"

She didn't say anything, just stared at him.

"Not in the mood for guessing?" He hadn't lost his smile.

She just gave him a pointed look. He raised his hands in an 'I surrender' gesture.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you." He sat down on the end of the bed. "I. Got. You. Diiiissschaaarged!" He sang the last word and did a strange little dance.

The smile on her face was the widest they'd seen in weeks.

* * *

A/N: Thoughts? Reviews make me happy so please take a few moments to leave one. :)

Ooh, and tell me your favourite lines. :D


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